


A Guilty Night Out

by AleneShazam



Category: Love Live! School Idol Festival (Video Game), Love Live! School Idol Project, Love Live! Sunshine!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Honestly I'm a shitlord for that dynamic, Mari is a good sponsor for fancy dates, More Nerd Yoshiko X Athlete Yo, Things get messy, Yo asks Yoshiko out on a date, alcohol happens, but it ends up ok, mentioned sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 01:12:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12048219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AleneShazam/pseuds/AleneShazam
Summary: Yo is convinced that getting a girlfriend is what Yoshiko needs to get a life. Yoshiko disagrees, so Yo takes it on upon herself to prove Yoshiko wrong - by taking Yoshiko on a fancy date.Except alcohol happens, and things get really messy.[YouHane! College AU. One Shot.]





	A Guilty Night Out

**Author's Note:**

> For reference, the dresses they wear later are the ones featured in their birthday box art.
> 
> Follow my tumblr for updates, art, requests, and more! (<https://worldofoasis.tumblr.com/>)

“You know what you’re missing?”

“What?”

“A girlfriend. Maybe that’ll drag your lazy ass out of the bedroom.”

Yoshiko rolls over in her bed, pausing the game on her 3DS and giving Yo a flat stare.

Yo notices her stare, and shrugs nonchalantly. “What? It’s true. All you ever do is go to class, and game. Sometimes both at once. _Often_ times both at once. You should get out more. I keep telling you this.”

Yoshiko rolls her eyes, and goes back to her game.

This is a discussion the two have had many times, over the course the year or so of them rooming together for college.

Despite being roommates, the two are as different as night and day. Yo got into uni via a sports scholarship, and as the ace of the school swim team (as well as most other sports teams - she’s multi-talented like that) there’s very little question she’s living out a fulfilled, healthy college life. Yoshiko, on the other hand, barely scraped by the cut-offs for admissions and spends her free- and lesson-time gaming. Or worshipping Satan.

Yo wears cool tank tops and jeans and snapbacks. Yoshiko wears black, black, and more black. With a side of purple. Yo hits the gym five times per week and can run a mile without breaking a sweat. Yoshiko can barely make it to the convenience store without getting short of breath. Yo is instantly recognizable to 80% of the school population. Yoshiko in her current state probably wouldn’t be recognized by her parents.

The point is, they’re different. Mentally, physically, ideologically. Pathologically.

“Putting aside the statistical improbability of me getting a girlfriend,” Yoshiko replies, without looking away from the screen of the DS. “I fail to see how a girlfriend would change anything. I’m too set in my ways to change now. It’s too late for me.”

“Well, look at Chika,” Yo points out, closing the book she was trying (and failing) to take notes on and leaning back in her chair. “She used to be a shit until she met Riko.”

“She’s still a shit.”

“…Fair enough, but Riko keeps her under control.”

Yoshiko thinks for a moment before shrugging. “I’ll concede that.”

“And,” Yo looks over to Yoshiko. “What do you mean, statistical improbability?”

Yoshiko hesitates for a moment. “…You know what I mean. It’s unlikely.”

She keeps her eyes on the screen, but Yo’s lived with the girl for long enough to pick up on her little gestures. She’s sulking.

Yo sighs, crossing her arms behind her head.

“…So… things aren’t going well, then?”

“What do you think?” Yoshiko mutters, mashing away at the buttons with increasing force. “Does it look like I have a girlfriend?”’

“Well…” Yo sucks in a breath. “No?”

Yoshiko tosses her 3DS to the other side of the bed, a sad “do do do do” game over jingle coming from the device. She rolls over in her bed, her back to Yo’s side of the room.

“Exactly. And I don’t need one. Yohane is perfectly capable of living a fulfilled life without romantic companionship.”

She’s _definitely_ sulking. She talks big, but Yo can tell she’s miserable. Okay, maybe Yo is partially to blame for Yoshiko’s misery by bringing girls over every weekend, but she’s gay and thirsty. She’s got to let off steam somehow.

“Y’know,” Yo sits up, scratching her cheek with a finger. “You might be more popular if you took it down a notch with the goth cult shtick. It’s not like you’re not attractive or anything. You’re like a solid eight. Eight and a half.”

“…” Yoshiko lifts her head, peeking at Yo. “You don’t mean that.”

“Look, girl, I’m an expert. Check it.” Yo’s put on her stupid Female Body Inspector snapback, the white-on-black one that Yoshiko hates with a passion, and she’s gesturing at it proudly. “Officially licensed.”

“Why are you like this?”

Yo flexes her arms. “Gotta uphold my stereotypes somehow. I’m the hot athletic love doctor and you’re my next patient.”

“Excuse me?”

“My point is, you’re actually, like, pretty cute.” Yo says, returning to a neutral sitting pose. “Solid eight point five. I’d date you.”

“Why don’t you then? Not like anyone else is going to ask me out.”

Yoshiko reaches for her 3DS, commenting idly.

“Maybe I will,” Yo says, nonchalantly. “Are you free next Saturday?”

Yoshiko drops her 3DS.

She pauses for a moment, before staring at Yo.

“Are… are you for real?” She asks, nervously.

“Girls, and my workout routine.” Yo raises three fingers. “Two things I never joke about.”

She glances at her hand, and quickly lowers one finger. “But seriously, though. Are you free? Because I’m gonna need to make plans.”

“I, uh…”

Yoshiko gulps. “Saturday’s fine— wait, are we _really_ doing this?”

You grins.

“Saturday. You, me, dinner. _Let’s do this._ ”

*****

“…So, yeah. That’s happening.”

Yoshiko finishes lamely, looking over at her two friends. They’re in a lecture hall, at the far back so they can talk quietly and not get in trouble.

Ruby and Hanamaru exchange looks with each other, and together they grin and turn to Yoshiko.

“Congratulations!” “Congratulations, zura!”

“You were always complaining about being lonely, right? I’m so happy you’re finally getting a date!”

Ruby beams at Yoshiko, grabbing her hand excitedly. “Where are you going to eat? What are you going to wear? Oh, you’re going to have to accessorize~”

“W-wait, I—”

“Yoshiko’s all grown up, zura.” Hanamaru wipes away a tear. “I’m so proud I could just cry…!”

“Guys, wait, hang on—”

“Oh, you just _have_ to take pictures! Keep us updated! Right, Maru?”

“Yeah!”

“I…” Yoshiko bites her lip, looking away. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll keep you posted.”

Ruby tilts her head.

“Is something… wrong? You don’t look too excited.”

Yoshiko sighs and shakes her head.

“No, nothing’s wrong, it’s just… it’s _Yo_.”

“You don’t like Yo, zura?” Hanamaru asks. “Even though she’s so popular? But I thought you…”

“It’s not that I _don’t_ like her. She’s _great_.” Yoshiko mutters. She traces circles onto the table, looking downcast. “It’s more… her popularity _is_ the issue.”

Ruby frowns, not getting it. “What do you mean?”

“She could have literally any girl on campus. The fact that she picked me…”

Yoshiko sighs. “It kind of feels like I’m a charity case, you know?”

_Maybe I will. Are you free next Saturday?_

The nonchalance in her tone… Yoshiko winces. She can practically feel the pity oozing out of it.

“Yo doesn’t strike me as that kind of girl, though…”

Yoshiko wishes she had Ruby’s optimism. She sighs, and shrugs, offering up a smile to Ruby and Hanamaru.

“Either way, I’ll at least put in some effort. If Yo’s going through the trouble for arranging dinner…”

She can at least try to enjoy herself. For Yo’s sake, if anything else.

*****

“Are you ready yet~”

Yo’s voice is muffled through the door. Despite the two of them sharing a room, Yo insisted that she has to pick Yoshiko up for the date, which means Yo got ready in advance and left the dorm room so Yoshiko can prepare. It’s unnecessarily complicated for Yoshiko’s tastes, but Yo insists that it’s ‘tradition’.

“J-Just a sec…!”

Yoshiko stares into the bathroom mirror. She looks fine, right? Is her hair okay? Should she keep the bun? She feels like she should keep the bun, but at the same time, maybe she should let it down to look more mature. She doesn’t even know where they’re eating. Yo just told her to ‘dress nice’.

Yoshiko chose one of the dresses from her collection - a black dress with subtle lace ruffles and floral patterns, coming up to her knee. It’s fairly conservative, but Yoshiko figures she shouldn’t go all the way with this. The gloves might be a bit much, though…

“Ah… my make-up is gonna run at this rate…”

M-make-up?! Yoshiko starts, looking in the direction of the door. Somehow she thought Yo would be dressed in her usual tomboyish fashion — is that not the case?

“Sorry! I’m coming!”

She comes out of the bathroom, stepping up to the door. Taking a deep breath, she calms her nerves, and opens the door.

“Sorry for keeping you wait…ing…”

Yoshiko stops, her sentence drifting off into silence.

Yo is wearing a gorgeous aqua-blue sleeveless cocktail dress, the folds shimmering and fluttery like the ocean waves, perfectly accentuating her figure. Around her neck is a beautiful pearl necklace, and her hair is pinned up with a delicate blue rose, resting on a purple bow. As she said, her face sports signs of make up, but only light touches here and there that bring out her natural beauty. Under the warm light of the setting sun, her lightly tanned skin seems to glow like gold. She looks like an angel.

She smiles at Yoshiko, and the younger girl feels faint for a moment.

“You look great. I’m digging the heels.”

Yoshiko thinks she needs a fucking moment to chill. But she doesn’t have that, so she just stammers out a reply.

“I- uh, you- you look great too.”

Yo chuckles, offering Yoshiko a hand. “Sorry I didn’t get any flowers.”

“Um!” Yoshiko squeaks. “T-That’s fine! I don’t mind!”

She hesitantly takes Yo’s hand. Yo is warm, and in contrast to Yoshiko’s soft skin, her hands are rough, and calloused, from all the sports she does. It doesn’t bother Yoshiko, though, as she dreamily allows herself to be led by the hand down the corridor to the elevator. It’s not until the old rickety elevator of the dorms starts to shudder on its way down that Yoshiko is shaken from her reverie.

“Um,” Yoshiko speaks up, tugging Yo’s hand to gain her attention. “Where… where are we going?”

“Just wait and see. It’s a surprise~” Yo winks at Yoshiko, and Yoshiko is glad she’s holding Yo’s hand because she’s suddenly weak in the knees.

The elevator opens, and Yoshiko is surprised to see a car parked on the roadside in front of the dorm. Yo walks up to the car, says something to the driver, who nods, and then she turns to beckon Yoshiko over.

“You didn’t think I’d make a pretty girl walk the distance, did you?”

Yo pulls the door open, making a sweeping gesture with her free hand. “Ladies first.”

Yoshiko blushes even more, hiking up her dress a little and getting onto the backseat of the car. Yo gets in behind her, sitting down gracefully next to her. She leans forward and murmurs something to the driver, who gives her a thumbs up, and starts driving.

Yo settles back, giving Yoshiko a soft smile. Yoshiko is so used to her normal shit-eating grins that it catches her off guard. Despite ticking all the boxes for acting like an asshole jock fuckboy in daily life, Yo has a strong sense of courtesy and the occasional softness that surprises Yoshiko from time to time. She suspects Yo shows this side of her to all of the girls she’s dated/slept with/fooled around with then left hanging but she’s still happy that Yo is acting this way towards her.

“You’re gonna love where we’re headed.” Yo grins. “At least - gosh, I hope you do. It took me some time to get everything together.”

“Sounds… elaborate.”

“You betcha.”

Yoshiko hesitates, then decides to speak her mind. Might as well make conversation, right?

“If I’m going to be honest, I expected something… simpler. Like McDonalds. Or old Dan’s diner down the road.”

Yo laughs. “Cheap dates are for the third time onwards. You gotta treat the first date right.”

“You sound like you’ve got experience with that.”

Yoshiko says, before she can stop herself. She sounds mildly bitter, and she hopes to Satan Yo doesn’t pick up on that.

Yo glances at Yoshiko for a moment, before turning her head to look out of the window, at the streets moving past them in a blur.

“I guess,” She admits. “Not a lot of it is serious, though. I think there’s an understanding with most girls who come up to me.”

Ah. Yoshiko deflates a little. So it’s not serious, after all.

“Don’t worry, though.” Yo adds quickly. “I’ll treat you well.”

Now Yoshiko is confused - she likes to think she has a pretty good read on Yo, but now that she’s in a _dress_ , and _make-up_ , it’s like she’s dealing with a whole other person. Her heart is racing, and she has no idea what to think. Yo isn’t giving off any signs of her intentions, and it’s driving Yoshiko crazy.

Yoshiko glances out of the window as well. They’ve moved well out of the campus now, and are cruising down the streets in the nice downtown area. It’s gotten darker now, the sunset dimming into a dusky twilight. The streetlights begin to flicker on, one by one.

Yoshiko wonders if she should make conversation. She turns back to look at Yo, opening her mouth to speak—

“We’ll be arriving soon.”

—But closes her mouth again as Yo suddenly speaks up, turning to smile at Yoshiko.

Sure enough, the car soon rolls to a stop, and Yoshiko steals a peek outside the window. They’re in the _really_ nice part of town now, where Yoshiko wouldn’t even dream of going normally. She feels incredibly out of place amidst the lights and the glamor, but the door swings open and Yo steps outside, holding out her hand to help Yoshiko up.

Accepting the hand, Yoshiko steps out onto the streets, breathing in deeply in an attempt to calm her nerves. She grips Yo’s hand, looking around uneasily.

“What’s wrong?” Yo asks, noticing Yoshiko’s nervousness.

“There’s…” Yoshiko swallows, her voice small. She feels stupid for being nervous about it, but she can’t help it. “There’s a lot of people…”

Yo blinks, looking around. There’s a sizeable throng of people on the streets, most of them well-dressed for a night out. She glances back at Yoshiko, and it clicks - she thanks the driver hastily, and pulls Yoshiko aside, not exactly into an alley but into a less busy corner.

Yoshiko breathes in, trying to calm herself down. Normally she has things under control, but being a fish out of water, and not having her Yohane guise to fall back on, her inferiority complex erupted, leaving her a shaking wreck. She feels woefully underdressed, and she feels like she’s going to be crushed under everyone’s judgemental stares. But Yo’s still holding her hand, and that grounds her in reality, somewhat.

“Are you okay?” Yo asks quietly. “We can go back.”

Yoshiko shakes her head. “I’ll be…” She grips Yo’s hand a little tighter. “I’ll be fine. Let’s just get to the restaurant.”

“It’ll be better inside,” Yo promises, as they head back out onto the street.

The restaurant, Yoshiko notes with a worried twinge, looks to be a fancy Italian place, all glittering chandeliers and candlelit tables. Yo speaks quickly to the waiter at the door, requesting a quieter table in a corner, which the waiter seems to oblige, leading them to a table far away from the street windows, even moving some of the nearby tables aside to give them more space.

The lighting is quite dark, the room lit up mostly by a single, dimmed chandelier at the center of the whole restaurant, and flickering candles on each table. It’s harder to see others, and there aren’t as many people in the restaurant, allowing Yoshiko to finally relax as she slumps forward onto the table.

“I’m tired already…” Yoshiko mumbles, her hand reaching out for Yo’s. “The outside world is scary…”

Yo holds Yoshiko’s hand, smiling apologetically. “Sorry…”

“It’s not your fault…” Yoshiko sighs. “I’m just… a shit…”

“You’re not a shit,” Yo says consolingly. “You’re just not that type of girl. I should probably have thought of that when I planned this.”

Yo’s consideration makes Yoshiko want to cry. Sitting up, she lightly smacks her own cheeks to cheer herself up, finally taking her first good look of the interior of the restaurant. Immediately she gets nervous again, and looks at Yo.

“Isn’t this place a little… erm… high-class? There’s even no menu…”

Yo scratches the back of her head, embarrassed. “I actually asked Mari for advice, and she recommended this place.”

“But the pricing…” Yoshiko bites her lip. She doesn’t want to seem cheap to Yo, but her budget is woefully limited. The place seems way above her pay range.

“Don’t worry about the cost - I’ll handle it, since I asked you out on this date.”

Yoshiko gapes. “Is- is that really okay? I mean, it looks way expensive…”

“Seriously, don’t worry about it. I got Mari to pull some strings. Just relax and enjoy.”

Yo smiles reassuringly, and Yoshiko finds herself unable to refuse.

“If you say so…”

“I do say so!” Yo grins. “Anyway- Ah! The wine is here.”

“W-Wine?!” Yoshiko squeaks, looking around.

Sure enough, a waitress arrives, bearing two glasses and a bottle of wine. Setting the glasses down, she pours out glasses for both girls, giving them a professional smile. “If you want more wine, you only need to ask. The food will be out shortly - we appreciate your patience.”

As she walks away, Yoshiko stares at the glass of wine like it’s going to bite her. She’s only ever had shitty cheap beer - wine is beyond her pay grade. She looks across the table - Yo picks up the glass daintily, swirling it around before taking a delicate sip. She looks intimidatingly good doing it, and Yoshiko’s not sure if she should drink any of it at all.

Still, she picks up the glass, clumsily imitating Yo as she takes her own sip. The rich flavour quickly spreads across her tongue, bittersweet as it goes down Yoshiko’s throat. It even tastes wealthy.

“Ooh.” Yo makes a delighted noise. “That’s nice.”

Is it? Yoshiko wouldn’t know, but she assumes it’s nice and takes another sip.

The candle continues to flicker as they sit in silence for a while, sipping on the wine. Yo looks calm, at peace even, as she idly sips away at her glass. She swirls the glass around a few times, watching the wine slosh in the glass, with a small smile on her face. She seems entirely at home.

Yoshiko wonders how many times Yo has done this. And because she has no brain-mouth filter, she asks: “…How many times have you done this?”

“Something this fancy?” Yo shrugs. “Just this once.”

Yoshiko can’t help but smile. “Wow. Now I feel special.”

“You should.” Yo gives Yoshiko a warm smile, and Yoshiko’s brain goes fuzzy. “You are.”

Yoshiko blushes, flustered. “Yo…”

Thankfully, before Yoshiko can explode from embarrassment, the food arrives, and the two put conversation on hold to taste test the fancy Italian delicacies.

*****

“So, like I just— like, shoved her off the running machine.”

“You _didn’t_.”

“I totally did, and she just went- like, flying, cuz the speed was set all the way up and she almost broke her leg.”

“Holy shit, you’re _evil._ ”

Yoshiko giggles, as Yo sloppily recounts how she almost murdered Kanan on the treadmill that one time. She moves to drink from her glass, but after tipping it back for a solid five seconds she realizes the glass is empty, and refills it for the umpteenth time. The glass fills up to about a half when the bottle bottoms out.

Yoshiko pouts, and stares at Yo, giving her a sad look that says _this is a problem that needs fixing._

Yo grins, and waves down the poor waitress who’s done several wine runs for them already. She doesn’t even wait for Yo to order, just nods and heads for the kitchen. Yoshiko isn’t sure how Yo has access to this much alcohol but she’s super impressed.

“You’re, like, a wine wizard.” Yoshiko says, taking a large sip - okay, a gulp - of wine. “You just wave your hand and a bottle appears. It’s _wild_.”

Yo laughs, a little too loudly for a fancy indoor restaurant, and they clink glasses noisily, earning a glare from the stuck-up couple nearby.

The waitress approaches with a new bottle of wine, setting it down on the table and taking the empty bottle. She also leans closer to Yo and says, politely, “The manager would like to inform you that you have spent all of your deposit.”

“Aw, already?” Yo frowns, but nods. “Alright then.”

The waitress leaves, and Yoshiko gives Yo a questioning look. “Deposit?”

“So,” Yo rubs her arm guiltily. “Actually Mari’s the one paying for this meal because I’m flat broke.”

Yoshiko stares at Yo for a while as her brain sluggishly processes this new tidbit. “When you say you’ve got it handled…”

“…I mean I got down on my knees and begged Mari to be charitable for once in her rich-ass life.”

“Wow.” Yoshiko blinks. “For me?”

“You gotta treat the first date right,” Yo says, downing her glass of wine. “Last refill, Yoshiko.”

Yoshiko accepts the refill, and chugs it down.

“You’re,” Yo hiccups, and that’s probably the moment when Yoshiko realized that both of them went seriously over-budget on the alcohol. “You’re kinda hot when you chug drinks like that. You should come with when we next go bar-crawling.”

Yoshiko blushes, and she stands up way too quickly and the chair slides with a clatter and makes Yoshiko wince from the noise.

“I- I need some air.”

“Imma come with.”

Yo stands up as well, swaying slightly before righting herself. She’s drank more than Yoshiko did, but then again, Yo can hold her alcohol better than Yoshiko.

The two of them stumble out of the fancy restaurant, earning disapproving looks from everyone in the establishment as they giggle and stagger their way out. The cold night air hits Yoshiko like a tonne of bricks, and she instinctively huddles close to Yo.

“What’s up?” Yo tilts her head.

“You’re hot.”

“So I’ve heard.” Yo flexes, and Yoshiko rolls her eyes.

“No, I mean you’re warm and it’s cold out, you dummy.”

“Do you want a hug?”

“I wouldn’t mind a hug.”

Yo wraps her buff athlete arms around Yoshiko, and the younger girl feels like she could melt. She nuzzles against Yo, resting her head against the crook of her neck. Yo’s just barely taller than Yoshiko, and it’s not the most comfortable pose but it works and Yoshiko is happy.

Yo chuckles, and Yoshiko makes a questioning sort of noise, like “hm?”

“I don’t see you drunk often. This is nice.”

“Are you… enjoying yourself?”

Yoshiko thinks she could have worded it less clumsily, but she’s genuinely concerned and she doesn’t do well with that. What if Yo isn’t having as much fun as Yoshiko is? Yoshiko wants Yo to have fun. All the fun.

Yo laughs. “I haven’t had this much fun in a while.”

 _In a while_. That drags Yoshiko back down to reality.

Yo may be Yoshiko’s first… Okay, first love, she’s mature enough to admit that she’s fallen for the dumb jock, but Yoshiko is by no means Yo’s only date. She’s taken countless girls out before, and the doubt suddenly bubbles up again, stronger and more vivid than ever.

Yoshiko holds Yo tight, afraid that she’s going to let go.

“Hey,” Yo laughs. “What’s up?”

When Yoshiko’s grip doesn’t let up, Yo’s expression gets more serious, and she gently pats Yoshiko on the back.

“Hey. You okay? I called for a taxi, so we’ll be home soon.”

She tries to pull back a little to look at Yoshiko’s face, but Yoshiko doesn’t budge an inch.

“…Don’t go.”

Yo kind of gets it, but at the same time she doesn’t.

“I’m not going anywhere,” She says. Yoshiko believes her, kind of.

The taxi arrives, and, with Yoshiko still attached to her, Yo eases onto the cab, giving the driver the address of the dorm.

As the taxi starts moving, Yo sighs, and looks down at Yoshiko.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me.” Yo murmurs, gently running her hand through Yoshiko’s hair. “Please? We’re friends, right? You can trust me.”

The motion is soothing to Yoshiko, but Yo’s wording, _friends_ , it’s a kick in the gut.

“Yoshiko?”

Yoshiko finally pulls away from Yo, and Yo’s mouth suddenly feels very dry as she realizes Yoshiko’s eyes are red, watery and on the verge of tears.

“What am I to you, Yo?”

Yo swallows. Yoshiko stares at her, her gaze wavering like she’s about to fall apart at any moment.

“You’re…” Yo hesitates for a moment, licking her lips to wet them. “You’re very precious to me.”

“I’m very precious to you, huh.”

Yoshiko laughs. It’s a hollow sound, and Yo immediately is worried. “I’m… precious…”

She lowers her head, and it takes a moment for Yo to realize she’s started to cry, tears spilling from her eyes down her cheek and soaking her dress as it drips down. She reaches for Yoshiko in a panic, but Yoshiko flinches back, looking like a cornered animal.

“You’re crying,” Yo points out, dumbly.

“Of- Of course I am,” Yoshiko snaps, between sobs. Her breath catches, and she suddenly realizes for once, her mouth isn’t locking up, her throat not closing up as she tries to speak her mind. It might be the alcohol. It might be frustration at the fact that she’s gotten _so close_ before falling flat. But this time, everything comes spilling out.

“I _like_ you, Yo. I _really, really_ like you.”

She grabs the front of Yo’s dress suddenly, and with a mad burst of courage, she pulls her close, their lips meeting hard. Yo’s lips are dry, and their teeth clash horribly, but it’s still the sweetest sensation she’s felt all day. But when she pulls away, all she feels is a gaping emptiness inside her.

“That- that was my first kiss. Okay? Do you get what that means? How _important_ you are to me?”

Why is Yoshiko angry? All of her feelings are boiling over and evaporating into a blind anger that she lets out wildly, without really know why or what she’s doing.

“Jesus Christ, Yo, I was- I was so _happy_ when you asked me out, but I’m- I’m probably just another _one_ , right? Another score, another mark in your record? Because no one in their right mind would— with me— seriously…”

Words fail her. Yoshiko’s always told that she’s too verbose, but for once she fails to find the words to describe the volatile mix of emotions boiling up inside her.

Yo opens her mouth.

“It doesn’t… it doesn’t count if you’re drunk. A first kiss shouldn’t be given out so easily. Especially not to someone as scummy as me.”

Yoshiko doesn’t understand what Yo is saying. Hot tears blind her vision, and she’s sobbing too hard to speak properly.

“I’m the _worst_. The worst kind of person. You deserve better than an asshole who can only admit her feelings when she’s sloshed and she knows the person she likes is sloshed as well.”

“What?” Yoshiko stares at Yo, her confused brain trying to unpack what she just said.

“ _I like you too_.” Yo’s words tumble out quickly, almost too fast for Yoshiko to parse. “But I’m too terrified to pass it off as anything other than the usual, waiting for a moment when your standards are low enough for me to make a move. I’m _scum_. I’m nothing more than a creeping _predator_.”

“ _Fuck you._ ”

Yoshiko doesn’t know why she’s throwing insults at Yo, but she’s angry - _furious_ \- at what Yo is saying, so she shuts her up with another desperate, needy kiss, as much vitriol as it is attraction. Before she knows it Yo is kissing back, and suddenly it’s an angry, hateful, drunken make-out session in the back of this cab as it speeds through town.

Yoshiko is about to make a move on Yo’s dress when the driver clears his throat, turning around with a deadpan expression.

“Sorry to break this up, ladies, but it’s your stop.”

Yo throws a wad of bills at him and they stumble out into the open air, breathing heavily and staring at each other. As the taxi pulls away, they exchange a look and it’s as though a spark passes between them, still riding off the high of the alcohol.

“Room?”

“Room, _right_ _now._ ”

They’re not sure who spoke first, but it doesn’t even matter as they stumble into the elevator, pawing at each other, their lips already furiously locked back together.

*****

The next thing Yoshiko knows, it’s morning and her head is fucking pounding. She groans for a moment, and turns away from the sunlight, trying to spare herself from the pain of the sunlight burning her optical nerves through her eyelids.

Except then she rolls right into a very warm body, and memories of last night comes crashing down like an avalanche and it’s honestly kind of terrifying. If she opens her eyes now, she's going to have to face the potentially devastating truth of reality. She’s never been so unsure of whether or not to fully wake up in her life.

The solution gets handed to her, though, when she feels strong arms wrap around her, and hears a hoarse but familiar voice say, “Morning.”

She opens her eyes, and meets the gaze of Yo, currently stark naked, her cerulean eyes soft and filled with nothing but affection. It dispels all of her worries as she gazes back, a soft smile unwittingly finding itself onto her face.

“Hey.”

Yo’s hair is messy, and her neck is covered with hickeys, and are those _claw marks_ along her back? But she’s never looked more beautiful, or satisfied, in Yoshiko’s eyes, and that feeling is kind of terrifying too, but in a good way. A good kind of terrifying.

“You’re really pretty.” Yoshiko blabs out, in the absence of anything else that comes to mind.

Yo chuckles dryly. “Flatterer.”

“It’s true.”

Might as well go with it, right?

Yo doesn’t respond, instead reaching over and gently caressing Yoshiko’s cheek with her thumb. Yoshiko blushes, leaning into Yo for a kiss. Their lips are dry, but rather than the desperation of last night, all Yoshiko feels is a tender warmth bubbling around inside her.

When they break off the kiss, Yoshiko doesn’t pull away, continuing to lean against Yo. It’s hilarious how differently they’re built. Unlike say, Mari and Kanan, who’re both built like supermodels, Yo has a definite athletic edge to her, lacking in the softness most people associate with girls. Yoshiko, meanwhile, is slender and feather-light, her skin pale especially in comparison to Yo’s light tan. They’re totally different, but maybe that’s okay.

Eventually, after a while of comfortable silence, Yo speaks up.

“…Do you regret last night?”

Yoshiko swallows nervously.

“That’s a really complicated question, and it’s too early in the morning for complicated questions right now—”

“Yoshiko.”

Yo’s voice is soft, but insistent. “I don’t. I feel bad for taking advantage of the alcohol, but… I don’t regret it. Do you?”

Yoshiko’s mouth is dry, but she slowly shakes her head. “I… don’t either.”

Yo breathes out, relieved. Yoshiko feels physically lighter at the admission.

“So…” Yoshiko hesitates. “What are we now? Are we… dating?”

“If you’re cool with me and my… reputation,” Yo shifts awkwardly. “We can be.”

“Am I gonna get to see that elusive cheap McDonalds date?” Yoshiko jokes, looping her arms around Yo’s neck.

“Maybe,” Yo grins as well. “We’ll just have to wait and see.”

Yoshiko wants to lean in and kiss her. Clearly Yo has the same idea as well, but Yoshiko’s dying to figure something out, first.

“I have to know… since when?”

“Hmm?” Yo looks confused for a moment.

“Since when did you… like me?” Yoshiko explains, blushing a little at the question.

Yo blushes as well, looking away awkwardly.

“I… well…” She scratches her cheek. “It’s been a few months, now…”

“ _No way._ ” Yoshiko gapes. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You didn’t seem interested…”

“That’s just because _you_ didn’t seem interested!”

Yo face palms. “Oh my god, I’m such an idiot.”

Yoshiko laughs, hugging Yo close.

“We both are.” She sighs, settling in comfortably. “I guess that’s one thing we have in similar.”

Yo snorts, and concedes the point.

They’re both idiots.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Yoshiko totally has real problems that needs to get looked at - but at least now she has Yo to help deal with them.
> 
> This AU is written with the idea that Yoshiko's high school debut goes crushingly bad, causing her to retreat into her video game hobby much harder than in canon. Yo, meanwhile, isn't caught up in the idol business so she gets to flex those massles.


End file.
